Frydee Earthless
Posted in Bootleg Theater on July 13th, 2013 by JJ KoczanEarthless, Live at Stoned from the Underground 2013
So this happened today. I’ll admit I’ve been jealous all week of everyone heading to the Stoned from the Underground festival in Germany. It’s the kind of thing that if I had a ton of money and no responsibilities whatsoever I’d hit up in a minute, and Earthless are a good example of why. The Cali-based instrumentalists posted the cover art of their new album, From the Ages, this week, and you gotta figure they’re breaking out a few new jams as they kick off their European tour with The Atomic Bitchwax and Mirror Queen, so yeah, it would be cool to see that in an alternate universe where such a thing is possible.
That Earthless cover was just one slice of a huge pile of news over the last few days. From that to Volume IV and Leaf Hound signing to Ripple, to The Midnight Ghost Train tour dates that I still need to post — so… tired…. — it seemed like every day I started out with a plan to put up a bunch of stuff that got pushed aside in my ongoing and doomed-to-miserable-failure attempt to remain even slightly topical with the updates from bands. I’m not going to complain about a new Borracho record or Vista Chino touring, it’s just a lot to keep up with, and as evidenced by the several I didn’t get to as of yet, my keeping up with it could use some work.
I did a fair amount of later-in-the-day posting this week, though, so I guess it’s fitting to end off as we approach two in the morning. The Patient Mrs. and I cut out today and headed north to take a trip to Montreal that we’ve been talking about for — no joke, no exaggeration — a decade. It’s only six hours north, but it took this long to get here. So she’s conked out and I’m up in the hotel room typing. Fine. We rolled into town at around 6PM, I had some work to do and then we grabbed dinner from someplace like on the other end of the universe and cabbed it back. Seems like a nice city so far. Tomorrow, hopefully a little record shopping and seeing the sights. Hopefully also sleeping late. That would be nice.
This was supposed to be a bit of fun before the big move coming up at the end of the month. Time we probably should spend continuing to pack, but a good opportunity to blow off a bit of steam before she starts a new job in September and I’m never allowed to spend money again because of mortgage payments. Yeah, then we got the news today that the house we’re about to buy — whoops — had a chemical leak seep into the groundwater where it will apparently permanently stay, thus moving the resale value from “unlikely” to “not on your fucking life.” We were set to close July 31. The mortgage has been acquired. The movers are booked. Tonight, I ruined a perfectly good moment sitting outside at some bar by turning to her and saying, “I can’t fucking believe we’re not buying this house.” It was the only thing I could think of on the subject.
To clue you in: The Patient Mrs. got a job in Bridgewater, Massachusetts. As we currently reside in New Jersey, a move has been in the works since, oh, last November. We were finally there, finally all good to go, and then yesterday our lawyer finds out — because a lawsuit was settled over the spilling of the aforementioned chemical — that this shit happened and no one bothered to tell us, meanwhile the fucking family who owns the house I guess decided to pocket the 38 grand they got in the settlement and get the hell out of dodge. Fucking brilliant. We wondered how so many people in the neighborhood had been able to add onto their houses. Pretty clear now. Settlement money. Also explains the water filtration system in the basement of this place. Ugh.
So while next weekend I’m going to head north — YET. FUCKING. AGAIN. — to try and find a place to live in Massachusetts (renting now, because we wouldn’t have enough time to start the home-buying process and make her September start date even if we wanted to), this weekend is to be a fun, relaxing break from it all in Montreal, not at all tinged by the dashed hopes of housing unattained and seemingly unfuckingattainable or the visions I had of living and working in that space or the feeling that if only at some point I’d grown up and gotten a real job I’d be able to afford something, say, not built on a steaming pile of carcinogenic shit. No, no, no. Not at all tinged by that. I’m not at all souring this mini-vacation that, again, has been discussed for at least the last 10 years. I’m not at all blinded by set-my-skin-on-fire rage at the thought of these people selling us this house without giving notice of the gasoline additives bled into the dirt. Me? I’m gonna go see The Brought Low next Friday in Boston and make the most of my stunted opportunities. Me? I’m a rock and roller. I’ll take pictures!
Chin up, motherfucker.
Next week: Reviews of The Dirty Streets and Carpet and Phantom Glue and Sioux.
Have a marvelous weekend.
